Read Online Hold Me Like a Breath by Tiffany Schmidt - Free Book Online Page B

stressing him and wanting answers before he changed his mind. “What about the Everlys? I get that they’re amoral slime, but are they really a threat to our Family?”
    â€œYou mean besides the fact that Nolan’s using them as reason eight hundred we should support the Organ Act? He gave a two-hour presentation on it yesterday morning. Two hours of explaining why we should support a law that would make it legal to pay organ donors—and pretty much put ourselves out of business. Two hours.”
    I didn’t necessarily agree that the Organ Act would ruin the Business, but this wasn’t the time for a political debate. “Yeah … that doesn’t surprise me. It’s Father’s fault for giving him an audience—but no one listens to him. He’s my tutor, and
I
barely listen to him.”
    This earned me a quick grin and an “I know,” before he lapsed back into seriousness. “They might listen to him this time. A couple of the guys seemed interested. Miles and Frank especially. The bill’s getting some traction. The FBI is facing a ton of public pressure and salivating to shut someone down. On top of that, the Everlys had someone die on the table this week.”
    â€œHow horrible.” It had only happened to us once—that I knew of—a fifty-eight-year-old man had died during a heart transplant at the Hilton Head clinic. It was a tragedy for sure, but there was always a risk. The waits to reach the top of the government transplant lists were so long; sometimes people didn’t contact the Families until it was too late. “But the FBI is
always
salivating.Are we worried our payoffs aren’t getting to the right people? Or that one of the clinics isn’t secure?”
    â€œNo, you don’t get it—it was the
donor
who died. A twenty-six-year-old kindergarten teacher who was going to use the kidney money to pay for her wedding. And after she died, they harvested all her usable parts without asking her next of kin.
    â€œIt’s turned up the heat on all the Families—the donor’s fiancé is talking to the press, and there was a group of senators on the news today demanding answers.” Carter tugged on his hair again, shut his eyes. “I don’t know, maybe Nolan’s right. If the industry was legalized … We’d lose profits, but maybe it would be better, you know?”
    â€œMoney is not more important than morals. If it keeps scum like the Everlys from killing donors, giving people diseased parts, or lying about corpse pieces—yeah, I think that’d be better. And no more fear of FBI raids; no more people like Keith Ward getting killed; or worrying about you or Father ending up in jail or worse—sounds heavenly to me.”
    Carter flinched repeatedly during my rant, though these truths couldn’t be news to him. “You worry about all that?”
    â€œConstantly. Every single time you or Father leave the estate, and that’s the bulk of my prayers every night. I think it’s part of being a Family.”
    â€œI don’t want you worrying about me, Pen.”
    â€œThen maybe it’s time to support the Organ Act,” I joked, waiting for him to say
Okay, mini-Nolan
like he did whenever I brought up H.R. 197 or used a big word. Instead he turned away from me.
    â€œMaybe. Yeah, maybe …” He wasn’t really answering me, just thinking out loud. His gaze was out the window, down the drive, and on something that either I couldn’t see or that wasn’t there. “Listen, Pen, I’ve got to go. There’s something I’ve got to do.”
    â€œGo where? It’s midnight, and I have more questions.”
    â€œWe’ll talk again soon. Promise.”
    â€œNo, wait.” I grabbed his arm and he was stuck. He couldn’t leave unless he pulled away forcefully—and that would hurt me. It was a cheap trick, but an effective one.